


would you let me know

by eriev



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Revealed, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriev/pseuds/eriev
Summary: When Arthur is fatally wounded after an encounter with some bandits, Merlin is left with no other option but to use magic to save him.





	would you let me know

Merlin had been so tired the previous night that he had forgotten to put up wards to defend against non-magic attacks.  He hadn’t the time, not when he and Arthur had practically rode from dawn till past the time the sun disappeared beneath the trees and the only light to guide them was the silver glow of the moon.

He had fallen asleep to the memory of Arthur’s warmth beneath his fingertips as he loosened Arthur’s armor to make sleep more comfortable.  Arthur had chastised him for going so slow, but with no real malice behind his words.  When they were alone, just the two of them out hunting in the woods, he could see weight lift off Arthur’s shoulders.  A king who found short refuge away from the heaviness of the crown that was a burden and a blessing.

Despite the discomfort of brush, Merlin’s dreams were sound and uninterrupted, at least until he heard a cry of pain and rose to his feet.  He peered behind a tree to see two men standing above where Arthur slept, pulling out a sword that glinted red with blood in the daylight.

Merlin’s heart stopped, then kicked back into gear as he shot silent spells at the two men, abandoning secrecy, then rushed to Arthur’s side with a cry.  “You prat, could have woken me sooner, please be fine Arthur, please be safe….”

Arthur’s face was gaunt, and the light was fading from his deep blue eyes.  “Merlin,” he said breathlessly.

“You’re, you’re going to be safe Arthur, I promise.”  They were too far from a physician to help; Merlin would be unable to get Arthur to Gaius on time.  Only one option remained.  “You’re going to hate me, but you’re going to be safe.”

Arthur’s hand weakly brushed Merlin’s face.  “Could – never – h-h-hate you.  I know th-th-that I’m going to die, but I have to tell you that I-love –”

“Quiet!  Just, remember what I told you.”  Arthur didn’t get to tell him that, not with what he was about to do.  “You don’t hate me.  Please remember that.  I need to turn you over.”

“Won’t – won’t help.  Stay with me?”

Merlin ignored Arthur and shifted his body to get a prime angle of the wound.  “Normally you’d be passed out by now,” he grumbled under his breath.  “Sorry.”  Merlin then took a deep breath, feeling the energies of the earth, his own magic pulsing in his veins, and letting the power flow into his fingertips, which were now positioned over Arthur’s wound.  He could not tell if Arthur was looking at him now.  He did not want to know.  He would become distracted, and healing Arthur would require all of his effort.  When Merlin spoke again, his voice was deep and throaty, his eyes flashing gold as he chanted the spell.

Merlin forced himself to look only at the wound, not Arthur’s face.  Only the wound.  The wound was beginning to heal, but not enough.  “Just heal, you prat.”  He shouted the spell again, forcing every ounce of power he had through his fingertips.  “Heal….Arthur…..please.”  Merlin didn’t notice anything else, as he passed out.

* * *

“Could – never – h-h-hate you.  I know th-th-that I’m going to die, but I have to tell you that I-love –”  Arthur’s chest and side were screaming in pain, but he had to tell Merlin.  He wouldn’t get another chance.  At least he wouldn’t have the chance to experience much rejection.

Quiet!  Just, remember what I told you.”  Arthur had already told Merlin that he didn’t hate him, so why would Merlin believe he ever could?  “You don’t hate me.  Please remember that.  I need to turn you over.”

Turning his body over would hurt, and it wouldn’t help, anyways.  Arthur didn’t want to turn over, he wanted Merlin to stay by his side, holding him.  “Won’t – won’t help.  Stay with me?”

Apparently Merlin remained insolent even when Arthur was mortally wounded, which was a comfort of sorts.  Merlin turned him over and muttered something under his breath, then said, “Sorry.”  What did Merlin keep apologizing for?  

He soon discovered what Merlin apologizing for when his manservant, best friend, and object of his affections shouted something in a strange language, his irises glowing gold.  Arthur felt a jolt of energy surge through him where he had been injured, and his pain was replaced with a sharp, tingling heat.  The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant.  But still, Arthur was speechless.  Merlin had just performed magic.  Not just any kind of magic… he could feel the power surging through him.

“Just heal, you prat,” said Merlin, and although Arthur’s gaze was fixed directly at Merlin’s face, Merlin didn’t glance his way.  His facial profile was determined and resigned.  Arthur’s head began to swim with so many sensations and revelations.  Merlin was a sorcerer.  Sorcerers were evil.  Merlin was… healing him?  Sorcerers caused nothing but pain.

Merlin shouted the spell once more, and Arthur felt a more powerful surge of energy flow through his body, echoing in his bones, his flesh, his blood.  With the overwhelming sensation, Arthur surrendered to darkness.

* * *

Arthur awoke to the sight of sunlight streaming through the treetops.  The patches of sky he could see through the leaves were a clear blue.  The ground was hard, but nothing he had not dealt with before.  Lying still, he felt completely rejuvenated, but then he moved his limbs.  His arms and legs were so sore that he felt like he had not moved in ages.  How long had he been out?

Memories flooded back into his mind like a rushing river, flashes of them as he closed his eyes from the onslaught.  He had awoken to a sword stabbed through his chest, unsure of the perpetrators.  He grudgingly moved an arm to feel where the wound had been, but there was nothing.  Not even a scar.  In fact, when he felt for the scar slightly above his left hipbone, it was also gone.

Then:  Merlin.  Merlin was a sorcerer.  The thought reverberated through his head, willing his mind to process it.  Merlin was a sorcerer.  An incredibly powerful one, apparently, judging by how thoroughly healed he was.  Thoroughly healed by the spell Merlin had cast.  Merlin.  Had cast a spell.  Merlin was a sorcerer who cast spells.  

Perhaps Arthur’s thought process was a little one-minded at the moment.  Not that it was unwarranted, given that he just survived a traumatic experience.  Because of Merlin.  Did he mention the part where Merlin was a lying sorcerer who cast spells?

Speaking of Merlin, where was he?  Was he hiding in the woods somewhere, watching Arthur’s every movement?  Had he run off once he realized that his secret was out?   _ No _ , Arthur thought.  _ Merlin is not one to run from trouble.  He may be a liar and a sorcerer, but Merlin is no coward.  Is he? _  But how well did Arthur know Merlin?

With minor difficulty, as his limbs still felt groggy, Arthur slowly pulled himself up.  He looked around the area and saw Merlin lying on the ground a few feet away.  His pallor seemed paler than usual, but the rise and fall of his chest indicated his continued living.  He didn’t look entirely peaceful, but his face was expressionless, less lined.

_ The spell must’ve exhausted him _ .  And so Arthur returned to the Merlin = sorcerer thought pattern again.  It made no sense.  The overwhelming majority of sorcerers Arthur had met had been trying to kill him.  Merlin…. Had seemingly saved his life.  Arthur told Merlin everything, and he assumed Merlin did the same.  This was a vital aspect of someone’s identity to miss out on.  How long had Merlin been lying to him?  Had he ever known who Merlin was?

It made perfect sense.  Arthur knew that he had survived more scrapes than humanly possible, many of them involving the use of magic.  The griffin.  Gaius had said that such a creature could only be killed with magic, but Lancelot had apparently killed the thing with merely a spear.  And then refused to take credit, and later seemed unbearably chummy with Merlin.  So… Lancelot knew.  Had known.  A swell of anger rose up within Arthur.

More instances came to mind.  The Questing Beast.  The time Merlin had told him  _ he _ had killed the Great Dragon, even though he had no record of the actual event.  Morgause’s immortal army.  Morgana’s and Morgause’s defeat after all hope seemed lost.  Many instances of falling branches, misaimed swords, or enemies unfortunately tripping over their own shoelaces.

Arthur laughed bitterly.  How blind he was.  How much of a fool Merlin must have thought of him.  How often had he and Lancelot laughed behind his back?  Or now that he thought about it, Gaius must’ve known Merlin’s secret.  His father’s most trusted advisor, harboring a sorcerer who waited on the prince.  

And now Merlin was a sorcerer who waited on the king, who opposed magic.  He – Arthur – opposed magic.  It caused too much pain, and was too risky to be legalized, even with peaceful groups like the druids around.  He had been told of the evils of magic by several people.  His father.  Agravaine.  And Merlin.

Arthur’s thoughts were interrupted by the found of wings flapping off in the distance. He moved quickly in the direction of the noise, falling over in the process.  Merlin would have laughed at him, if he could see.  

He felt angry at himself for thinking of Merlin, and angry at Merlin for making him think about Merlin.  Whatever was coming, he hoped that it was something he could attack.

The sound of wings became closer, and an enormous beast burst through the trees, landing a few feet away.  Arthur successfully got to his feet this time, and brandished his sword.  “ _ You _ ,” he hissed.

“Put your sword away, Pendragon,” said the dragon.  The same dragon Arthur recognized as the one that had attacked Camelot, killing and injuring many men.  His best knights.  The beast had tried to attack himself and Guinevere.  Merlin had remained mysteriously unscathed.  

“Not a chance.  Neglected offing me all those years ago, so you’ve come to finish the job, have you?”

The dragon snorted.  “Not everything is about you, Pendragon.  I never sought to harm  _ you _ all those years ago.”  Arthur never knew that dragons could sound so deprecating, but that was the least of his revelations today.

“You sought to harm Camelot.  That is the same thing, in my opinion.”

“I was enraged.  Tell me, how would you feel if you had been imprisoned for twenty years, after seeing the destruction of almost the entirety of your kin?”

“That was not my fault, nor was it the fault of many who died as a result of your actions.”

“I was not thinking properly, and you are right that my actions harmed innocents.  But it was never my destiny to kill you.”

“Destiny,” Arthur snarled.  “You know, dragon, I’ve had quite enough of  _ destiny _ these past few days.  I was taught that a man forms his own fate, and I’ll stick to that at the moment.”

“A man who is forming his own fate is doing so to reach an unconscious goal.”

“What does that even mean?”

The dragon chuckled, the irritating bastard.  “A man makes his own decisions, and those decisions lead him on his path.  Your father tried to ban magic, but it was his undoing.  It tore him apart in the end.”

“My father was killed by magic – by the sorcerer, Dragoon.  Why would he support it?”  Why was he now conversing with the dragon?  Had he somehow gone insane?

“The sorcerer you know as Dragoon never killed your father.  The witch planted an amulet around your father’s neck to reverse, then multiply, the effects of the sorcerer’s spell.”

“The witch?”

“You know her as the Lady Morgana.”

“Morgana – she killed my father?  So the old man was not lying, if what you say is true.  But magic still killed my father.”

“Would magic have killed your father – would the witch be so determined to murder him if her kind had been allowed to live in peace?”

“I do not know,” said Arthur.  But wheels were turning in his mind, and he did know.  Morgana could have hated Uther less if he had not been so set against magic.

“Uther’s hatred was infectious.  The man had a heart of stone, and slowly hardened the witch as well.”

“Don’t say that about my father!”

“Are captives no longer allowed to despise their oppressors?”

Arthur was beginning to tire with what probably passed for a civilized conversation with the dragon.  “Why are you here?”

“Finally you ask a reasonable question.  I have come to aid the young warlock.”

“The young – you mean Merlin?”  Arthur looked over at Merlin, who was slowly becoming paler.  He turned away from the dragon and bent down at Merlin’s side.  Merlin.  Warlock.  Betrayal.

“Yes, I mean Merlin.  He has drained much of his powers healing your injuries.”

“You know Merlin?  Of course you do.”

“We have chatted a few times.  You are almost as insolent as he is.”

Arthur snorted, thinking about Merlin’s insolence and trying to imagine him dealing with the frustrating dragon.  A warm feeling began to form in his chest.  Then he remembered the magic and the betrayal and his mood soured. “He betrayed me.  He used magic.”  Saying it aloud was almost like a punch to the gut, and he tried to stop tears from forming in his eyes.

“You would be dead if he had not.”

“Why did he heal me?”

“Because, young king, you are two sides to the same coin.”

“And now you are being cryptic again.  Tell me, dragon, do you derive pleasure from being so vague?”

“You and Merlin are destined to do great things together.  Neither of you can properly exist without the other – you are two sides of the same coin.”

“So now you’re saying Merlin and I are soulmates.  Of a sort.”  Arthur looked at Merlin’s face, which was slowly draining of color.  His eyes drifted over Merlin’s features and a plethora of emotions burst forth in his chest.  Betrayal.  Anger.  Loss.  Lust.  Love.

“Of a sort,” echoed the dragon.  “Tell me, young Pendragon, because even dragons have their curiosities.  What hurts more?  Knowing now that he is everything you have been brought up to hate, or knowing that you never could despise him?”

Arthur was quiet for a moment as he contemplated the dragon’s words, and a couple of tears did form in his eyes.  Perhaps he never could truly hate Merlin, but he certainly disliked the dragon well enough.  “Shut up, dragon!  You have no right to know my heart.”

“And yet I do.  And now I must assist Merlin.  He has drained his energies, and I must assist him.”

“There is no need for you.  I’ll get him to the physician in Camelot.”

“But could you get there in time?  Camelot is several days journey away for you.  I could fly near, but I am forbidden from ever entering Camelot’s boundaries again.  There is not enough time, and if Merlin dies, I may forget my promise to never return.”

_ What promise? _ wondered Arthur momentarily, before he realized that if he hadn’t killed the dragon and Merlin and the dragon were now friends, Merlin may have made the dragon promise to leave.  But if he could command the dragon, what did they need Balinor for?  “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to heal him,” said the dragon calmly.  If you will step back.”

Arthur reluctantly let go of Merlin and the dragon paused, then breathed a sort of gold dust over Merlin.  Color began to return to his cheeks.  “Are you –”

The dragon answered in satisfaction.  “He is healed.  He will take a day to wake up, however.  Now, I must be off.”

The dragon turned, but Arthur called for it.  “Wait.  Where are you going?”

“Away from here.  I leave you with this, Pendragon:  destroy magic, and you will face personal consequences that you may not be able to bear.  Do not make your father’s mistakes.”  And with that, the dragon flew away through the same gap it had made in the treetops.

“Bastard,” said Arthur once the dragon had left, and he went to check on Merlin.

* * *

Merlin felt like someone had clubbed him with an incredibly large and blunt sword.  His body ached, and his magic seemed to echo the sentiment.  He tried to sit up as he remembered why he was lying on the ground in the first place.

He had passed out while attempting to heal Arthur.  Arthur!  He looked around for the king, but Arthur was nowhere in sight.  What had happened?  Had someone kidnapped Arthur?  Had he run away in disgust, seeing Merlin for what he truly was?  Was this Merlin’s chance to run before Arthur killed him for his magic? 

Just then, Merlin heard a crash through the trees, and Arthur appeared.  They stared dumbly at each other for a few moments before Arthur spoke.  “Merlin…. I see that you have finally decided to wake up.”  Arthur’s voice had the same lilt to it, but he seemed more distant, and his expression was rigid.

“I was a bit tired from the trip,” he said.

“The dragon told me you would wake up about now,” Arthur said almost conversationally, and Merlin felt his whole world shatter.

“The dragon?” he said weakly.

“Yes Merlin, the dragon.”  Arthur seemed impatient now.  “The one, if you recall one of your lies, was the one I did not kill.  The incredibly large one, who seems to have a penchant for being incredibly cryptic.  The one who spoke of you almost as if you were old friends.”

_ Killigharah _ , Merlin inwardly groaned.  “Oh.  That dragon.  We may have met a few times.”

“A few?”

“He kinda singled me out.  Wouldn’t shut up when I first arrived in Camelot.”

“And if you were already so chummy with the dragon, enough to make it leave Camelot, what did we need Balinor for?”

Merlin felt his mouth go dry.  “I’m a Dragonlord, which is why Killigarah – the Great Dragon – obeyed me when I told him to never return to Camelot.”

“I’ve already guessed the Dragonlord bit.  But you didn’t answer my question:  why did you not command the dragon to leave in the first place?”

“Because I wasn’t a Dragonlord before.  The powers of a Dragonlord are passed down from father to son, so when my father died, I inherited his powers.”

“Balinor was your… Oh,” Arthur said.  It was not his most eloquent response.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  His death wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t know.  I didn’t even know until right before we left.”

“And the magic?  Did you inherit that from Balinor as well?”

“Yes, the magic…. no, I’ve always had it.  I have magic, and I use it for you, Arthur.  My magic has been only to protect you.  If you believe nothing else, trust me on that.”  His voice broke, and he was on the verge of crying.

“I don’t think I can trust you,” Arthur said, and Merlin’s heart dropped.  “You’ve lied to me for so long now, and I trusted you.  I trusted you with  _ everything _ , Merlin, and this is how I am repaid?  Have I done the world a great wrong?”

“It’s not your fault,” insisted Merlin.

“Then why must I suffer so?  Why did you lie to me?”

“I had to.  I couldn’t protect you otherwise, not with your father.”

“And when I became king?  Why did you hold your tongue, even then?”

“Your father died as a result of magic, and you were more against it than ever.  Must I use your exact words?  ‘It has become clear to me that those who practice magic are truly evil.  I will never lose sight of that again.’”

Arthur was silent for a moment, and all Merlin could hear was the music of the forest, continuing to exist even as Merlin’s world crumbled.  “I was angry that my father had died – you know that I was not thinking objectively at the moment.  Besides, it’s not like you killed my father.”

Merlin could feel his face twisting into an expression of guilt, and he did his best to meet Arthur’s eyes.  “I did everything in my power to  _ heal _ him.  Everything.”

Arthur’s voice went cold.  “You were the old sorcerer.  You cast the spell on my father.”  

“I cast a healing spell.  There was a charm around your father’s neck, placed there by… well, Morgana’s spy.  It reversed my spell and multiplied it tenfold.  But you’re right.  I should have checked; I should have known that Morgana would have struck against Uther when he was most vulnerable.  But I never meant to kill him.”

Arthur snorted, and Merlin was thankful that Excaliber was lying on the forest floor a few feet away.  “You had reason enough to want to kill him.”

“I didn’t want to.  Remember what you promised Dragoon – me?  You said that you would lift the magic ban on Camelot during your reign.  Why would I purposefully kill your father if it would condemn me further?”

“If Morgana did place a charm around my father’s neck, why did you not go to me with the information immediately?  I had a right to know.”

Merlin gulped.  “You did.”

“Can you leave me alone now, Merlin?”  Arthur felt tired.

Merlin twitched, wanting to comfort Arthur, but knowing he was the cause of the king’s distress.  “I’ll gather some more firewood for tonight,” he said lamely.

* * *

Merlin did not return with firewood until the shadows faced the opposite direction they had before he left.  When Merlin returned, he placed a stack of firewood against a tree, and Arthur heard Merlin’s footsteps as he walked by their supplies.

Arthur did not look at Merlin, who was the first to break the silence.  “Shall I leave in the morning, or would you like me to head out tonight?  I can light one last fire, if you don’t mind my usual methods.”

“We’re headed back to Camelot in the morning.”  Arthur poked a few crumbling leaves with a stick.

“We?”  

“Are you deaf, Merlin?  Did the dragon heal your ears wrong?”

Merlin was silent for a moment, then Arthur saw a glint of silver in his vision as Merlin held out Excalibur.  “My first choice is exile, but I would prefer a quick stab to the pyre.”

Now Arthur  _ had _ to look up.  Merlin’s lips were tight, eyes bright with determination, unwavering as he held out the sword.  Arthur rose to his feet and took it.  “You expect me to kill you?”

“That’s the law, isn’t it?  I won’t stop you, Arthur.”

“You could.”

“I won’t stop you using force.  Using my magic.”

“You could stop using magic altogether.”

“I can’t.”

“That’s part of magic’s wickedness - it inspires such delusions!”

“I am magic.  It flows in me like blood!  I can feel it, and I’m not being delusional.  I have more magic than every other sorcerer in existence, and without it I am useless.”

“That’s not true,” said Arthur.  “Your counsel has always been wise.  I’ve never enjoyed anyone else’s company more.  I didn’t know you had magic a few days ago!”

“Without my magic, I cannot protect you!  That’s what magic is made for, and by outlawing dark magic, you’re also outlawing the good!  How blind do you have to be not to see that?!”

“Why do you care so much?!  Why continually risk your life to protect me with your magic?!  I don’t  _ understand _ Merlin.”

“Because I love you, you prat!  Because I’m a bloody masochist who falls for people who hate everything that I am, even when I do my best to protect them.  Because I may doubt destiny, but I have never doubted the person you will become, Arthur.”

Merlin’s  _ I love you, you prat _ reverberated throughout Arthur’s brain, and he felt an immense wave of guilt pass over him.  “You say you have never doubted me, but you never trusted me with your secret.”

When Merlin spoke, he sounded tired.  “Look at us, Arthur.  I lay myself bare to you, reveal the purpose of my magic and how vital it is to me, and even now you don’t understand it.”

“I –”  Arthur wanted to say something, but he had no explanation.  He had seen Merlin use magic to light a fire and nothing bad had happened.  Merlin had saved his life with magic more times than he could count.  Merlin seemed roughly the same person as before, yet completely different.  He made more sense and less sense at the same time.  It was infuriating, and Arthur extended the handle of Excalibur to Merlin.  He spoke, deflated.  “I learned that everything I knew about you was false.”

Merlin’s voice was hollow.  “I’m still the same person.”

“I know.  But there are parts of you that I haven’t seen before, parts of your character I didn’t know about… I thought I mostly knew who you were.”

“I told you a good portion of it.  I’ll answer any question you want to know.”

“Is that why you protect me?  Out of love for your king?”

Merlin’s ears turned an interesting shade of red.  “Yes, but also – I already spelled it out for you.  Please don’t ask me that question again, not when you already know the answer.”

“And if my answer is the same?”

A look of shock passed over Merlin’s face.  “Well, then.”  As Merlin’s eyes met his own, Arthur noticed they were a deep shade of blue, and crinkled at the edges, though he could recall when they had changed into a deep golden color as Merlin saved his life.  “Oh.  Oh!  Well, that’s –”

Arthur took a shaky breath, and stepped closer to Merlin.  “I have one more question.  Can I?”

“ _ Yes _ .  Yes, I mean, there is –”  

Arthur cut Merlin off.  “Merlin?  Do shut up now.”  And with that, Arthur reached a hand to Merlin’s cheek and brought their lips together.  He pulled Merlin closer with his other hand, and Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist, deepening the kiss.

Merlin’s face was flushed when they pulled away, and his lips were swollen.  He was silent for a few blessed moments, and it was gratifying to know that there was a way Arthur could coax Merlin to silence, but… “There’s still much to talk about,” Arthur said.  “We both feel the same, but there’s still –”

“Gwen,” Merlin said, then pushed away from Arthur in alarm.  “ _ Gwen _ , we shouldn’t do this to her, and you have heirs to consider.”

“Guinevere understands.  It’s a discussion we’ve had before.  She’s a wonderful queen, and I do love her, as I love you.  You understand?”

“I think so,” Merlin said.

“But until we solve the issue of your sorcery, I don’t feel comfortable continuing this.  We have the future, but for now…”

Merlin’s eyes lit up with hope.  “Does this mean you will lift the ban on sorcery?”

Arthur considered his recent discoveries.  He was still processing, but part of him already knew the conclusion.  “It won’t come immediately.  Many council members are still loyal to my father.  But I wouldn’t count it as an impossibility.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Merlin said.

“See that you do,” Arthur said, smiling.  “But for now, I’d like to hear more about your magic.”

“Allow me to show you.”

* * *

 

When darkness fell, Merlin conjured up creatures made of light, and laughed as Arthur flinched when they came too close for comfort.  He would still have to face an uphill battle.  But with Arthur by his side, the path was no longer so steep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed "Cliche Magic Reveal #1234567" the fic. It was originally part of a multichapter WIP written in 2014, but I did a bit of editing and turned it into a oneshot.


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